


Charming

by Aoife-Rose (Aoife)



Series: Goodacre & Franklin [1]
Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: Episode: Christmas Special 2013, F/M, Flirting, Injured Service-person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 18:43:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2478560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoife/pseuds/Aoife-Rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>... he doesn't sprint <i>quite</i> fast enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charming

**Author's Note:**

> There was a moment, when I was watching the Xmas Special, where I sat there stopping and restarting the episode, trying to identify exactly what medals everyone who was wearing medals were wearing, when I decided that Trixie /Captain Goodacre needed to be a thing. This is as far as I've got.

"Sister, sister, we need a nurse at the bomb site. One of the officers is injured.”

Sister Julienne looked around the busy hall and saw the two midwifes emerging from the kitchen. “Trixie, accompany the constable. They’ve phoned for an ambulance.”

The blonde's curls bobbed as her head popped up in surprise. "I thought the district had been cleared? Don't tell me someone's gone into labor -"

“Go with constable, Trixie.” Once they were out of the hall and out of the earshot of most of the Poplar residents, the constable spoke. “No, nurse. One of the men on the bomb has been injured.”

"One of the soldiers," Trixie repeated, "We heard the blast. I hope he's not been too badly injured?"

Despite trying to stay focused, she couldn't help but see the black and white newspaper images splashed across her mind's eye. Soldiers dead and dying, ripped apart by the bombs during the war.

“We’re not sure. One of the lad’s is looking after him, and we’ve sent for an ambulance, but with you ladies nearby, we thought best he have a nurse while we wait.”

"'Thought it best' or did the scamp _ask_ for a nurse hoping for a bit of cheerful company while he's waiting?"

The constable looked serious again. “He’s not conscious, miss.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” Trixie picked up her speed as best as she could on the old bicycle and the constable raced after her, nodding for her to be let through the Civil Defense barricades.

Order was still being restored after the blast. Men picked cautiously through the edges of the rubble, edging their way toward the bomb's former resting place to determine the structural soundness of the surrounding buildings. To one side, a man in Civil Defense uniform knelt beside another man in Army greens. Before them both, a figure lay prone on the rough cobbles.

"Come on, Captain, it was just a knock on the head. Rise and shine," the older man in greens was saying.

“How long as he been unconscious?” Trixie’s voice was all brusque professionalism, but as she knelt down beside the stricken man, she touched his forehead gently.

“Ten minutes ma’am.” 

“Have you got no blankets, nothing to keep him warm, soldier? He needs got off these cobbles!” She continued to inspect his clothed form, looking for obvious blood or broken bones.

"Yes, ma'am," the Civil Defense corporal stuttered before hurrying off. Still kneeling beside her, the Army officer smiled.  
"I rather like you, nurse. You've got spunk," he opined.  
"Spunk I have a plenty," Trixie agreed. "What I don't have is answers as to why this man is unconscious."  
"I'm of no help to you there, nurse. Was too busy running to see what happened to the Captain."

He smiled gently, “But I’d ask one of the lads what position he ended up in when the bomb went off. Like is that something came lose hit him, and that’ll be your best clue.”

Trixie nodded curtly as she stripped off her sweater. "Here, use this to cushion his head for now. Just tuck it around. Don't move him in case it's a spinal injury."  
Belatedly, the older man stripped off his own wool uniform coat and laid it gently over the captain's torso before taking Trixie's sweater.  
"Goes to show just how much I've forgotten that I didn't think to do something as simple as that, daft old codger that I am," he muttered.

“Easy to forget, Sir.” She found the broken leg. “Well there’s one injury.”

The older officer nodded. "Captain Goodacre must have been unbalanced by the tremors during the blast. Probably just lost his footing."

"Well this ought to put him off duties that have him running from exploding ordinance, at least for a little while."

“That doesn’t explain why he’s unconscious though, which worries me.” She fretted for a moment. “How long is the ambulance going to take to get here?”

"Where are those blankets coming from, Kensington?" Trixie fretted.

"Come now, Captain, you're an obliging chap. Don't want to go making the young lady worry over you."

The Captain moaned quietly.

Trixie blinked and pressed her hand to the Captain’s forehead. His eyes opened part way. “Can you look at me, please, Captain?”

His face was pointed toward her but his eyes kept shifting, one moment he seemed to be looking right at her and the next, he could have been looking at the sky above her.

His focus shifted again and Trixie saw it; the telltale contraction of one pupil while the other remained unchanged. "Looks like we can add concussion to your list of maladies, Captain."

"The major," he mumbled. "Did he -" 

She turned her head and beckoned him over. “He’s fine, just a bit shaken, Captain. We’re more worried about you.”

"Pretty girl like you shouldn't have to worry," the Captain mumbled, an airy smile turning up the right corner of his lips.

“What’s your name, Captain Charming?” Trixie covered him with the blanket that one of the Sappers had run up with.

"Goodacre," He replied.

“I’m Nurse Franklin, Captain. Now can you concentrate on my finger for a minute?”

"It's a nice finger," the Captain said amiably as he reached out and made a grab for her hand. "No ring."

She tugged her finger back with a smile. “Definitely Charming.”


End file.
